Leaving the Fallout
by Dj-Br3ndo
Summary: A story of a character Rhys in his need for change from the prison that is the vault he exists in. This is a short story.


Leaving the Fallout

"Why would you want to leave? Everything we have here is perfect."

"Nothing here is perfect. This place disgusts me." Nobody knew what lived beyond the untouched and secure steel vault door. For their entire existence, those living inside the damp, condensed dungeon have never been granted permission to experience life on the outside, out in the wasteland. Some consider that a gift, having a refuge that shields them from the result of human conflict; global thermonuclear war. I, on the other hand, believe that there are people surviving out in the wastes; radiation, lack of food, lack of life. Being trapped inside this underground dungeon of metal has made out to be torture; the same task every day, the impossibility of choice and the lack of opportunity slowly etching themselves into my mind. I feel the need to break free of this prison, or else it may become permanent.

Quietly sitting up, the dull reality faded back in. Cold bare iron walls encase the room, but boast no rust. Furniture is kept to a minimum; a bed, wardrobe, chair and table. Nick is sitting on the chair adjacent me, wearing the same blue jumpsuit with the number '17' imprinted on the back in bold yellow writing.

"But at least we can survive here! You wouldn't lead a very long life outside these walls!" His voice was starting to pick up, becoming serious.

"You don't know that," I retorted calm-fully, "Honestly, I believe it to be the other way around." Nick was always a simplistic person, not only with his attitude but also his looks; he still has the same short, brown haircut from when he was a child. His features didn't stand out like other people, but that's not to say he was ugly.

"You really think you will die early here?" Yeah, from insanity. I kept quiet and shrugged off the question. I've heard of people attempting to break out; it's a shame the Overseer is so concerned with keeping us as safe as possible, going to the length of killing those who try to force themselves out. It's even worse for the guards, having to execute those poor souls just because it is their assigned job. Jessie wanted to become a hairdresser, instead he was forced to take the role of a guard and patrol the vault door; he still hasn't gotten over having to eradicate Mr. Johnson though.

"Didn't Jessie recently get promoted?" I asked inquisitively.

"I know where you are going with this," Nick quickly informed me, "Yes, he did. He isn't enjoying it though, not with all those extra hours walking around in a practically empty room. He said something about walking off the job early this morning as no one goes that far out any more..." then he trailed off after realizing what he had just told me, his face losing its colour. It clicked, if I was to turn my life upside down and smell the air outside I had to leave today. Before Nick could even take another breath, I was up and out of the room.

Long, familiar corridors appeared and disappeared as I navigated through them at a fast pace. Those that went by seemed to wonder what was so important that I was jogging quickly along the passageways but thankfully seemed to brush it off. I had to get to the armory before Jacintah awoke; she never really liked me, actually she hated me. I had broken in once before and accidentally started spraying shells all over the floor and putting numerous dints and holes into the walls after my finger 'slipped' onto the trigger of an old pre war light machine gun. The upside was she always slept in of a morning, never an early riser. I peeled back the thick steel door after picking the lock flawlessly; thank goodness my sister kept a lot of bobby pins on her bedside table and especially for the lessons she gave me. The rather small room was completely empty of any signs of life but full on weapons and ammunition, as always. Squeezing through the door, I try my best to move silently into the room over to where the gun rack is. Out of the corner of my eye, the door to Jacintah's room sat slightly ajar. What I needed was something concealable, like a handgun... Bingo. A small 9mm pistol, one that has been kept in rather good condition, sat on the dark shelf with a stack of 9mm ammunition conveniently placed beside it. Grabbing the handgun and then the cartridge, I slid it into the weapon and cocked it in-case I needed to use it without warning. Wait...

"Ugh... Who's there?" Oops, that was much louder than I thought it would be.

I panicked and bolted out of the room, making too much noise and trying to hide the pistol under my clothes in the process. The adrenaline was pumping extraordinarily quickly to my body but mainly to my head; my vision blurred in and out, my concentration clearly deteriorating with each stride. Voices penetrated my mind, unable to translate into something I could understand; not that I really cared right now. They only started getting louder as I pushed unsuspecting residents out of my path, some turning to chase me thinking they were doing the right thing in accordance to the Overseer. The shadows were only getting larger as my energy drained from darting into corridors and avoiding those that stood in the way; it was pressuring my consciousness and degrading my chance of 'escape'. Finally spotting the door to the vault, I managed to trip over my own foot sending me into a uncontrollable slide along the almost frictionless floor. I was stopped abruptly, something or someone had been in the room.

"Man, what the hell do you think you are doing?!" It was Jessie and he wasn't too pleased to see me by the sounds of it, his voice rather distraught as he leaped over my body to seal the door shut. After struggling to lock the door tightly, he turned to me, his face pale and starting to drip with sweat.

"Nick came by before you had the chance to get here, told me you would be heading this way eventually. I'm rather surprised you got here so quickly. Let me guess: Adrenaline, right?" I nodded. I felt close to passing out, but got up off of the floor instead, trying to regain my balance and my consciousness. He was giving me an emotionless look as cries of anger were heard from the other side of the door. This dark room contained little lighting, an ominous light peeking though the gaps around the vault door. It was much larger than expected; at least two and a half metres tall and circular, with large teeth to hold it in place. So close...

"You don't honestly believe that I'm going to let my old childhood friend waltz out of here and out of my life?" I tried to knock the question away, focusing on my point of escape, but Jessie's gaze made his question become utterly important.

"No," I replied forcefully, "You wouldn't let me stroll out of here with ease..."

"Correct," he interrupted, "But, I'm not going to let the Overseer handle this situation either. I know what it's like for the people he actually imprisons, nasty stuff; I can understand why you want out." Seems he was starting to come to terms with my choice, my desire for change, even if it meant walking out on everything that has made me who I am today. Jessie brushed his blond fringe out of his eyes.

"I want to give you a choice, Rhys." Now there is something unheard of, never before has he given anyone the chance to decide for themselves. He always felt like a leader, or maybe he was just greedy. Since we were mere children, playing in the vault as we would, team games always left him as being the captain; or if we were to share food, he would choose his piece first. Yet here he was, standing firmly in-front of me, awaiting my reply, my decision.

What would I be losing if I choose to leave the vault, the sanctuary, the 'home provided out of love and generosity to protect us from the harsh nature of the wastes'? Maybe a place to actually call home. My friends that I have grown up with would see me disappear from their own existence, my family would be led to ask "Why did he leave? Why did he just walk away?". All that didn't trouble me, not if it meant breaking out from this insane asylum. Besides, I was too far in now, I had already broken multiple rules in the 'Overseer's Code of Conduct'; he'd have my head dismembered and put onto a pike in the rage like mood he is most definitely in.

"I want to get out of here, I've got no chance avoiding the consequences now." Jessie seemed to understand, even with his momentarily pale skin. Slowly, he turned around and walked over to what looked like a control panel for the door. Stretching out his hand, sweating and shaking, he clutched the lever in his hand; this would open the large 'blast' door, the one that has never been re-opened since the day it slid shut. Footsteps could be heard coming from a small walkway off to my left, becoming easily audible.

"Well son, what do you think you are doing?" The Overseer was furious, and not alone either.

"People don't just up and leave the vault. No one leaves, not before, not now!" His veins were extruding from his old, wrinkled face. He and his body guard were armed, hands gripping tightly around the handles as they advanced up to me as if Jessie wasn't even there; my hand reached for the hidden handgun concealed under my clothes. The Overseer came right up to me, face to face, with his body guard standing off to the right of him.

"Now, you are going to come with me quietly and we are going to resolve this little problem of yours!" He spat in my face, he was almost screaming. The Adrenaline returned to my body, this time containing a lot more anger.

"No." The guard reacted quickly and lunged towards me; again, I panicked. I pulled out the handgun swiftly, finger pressed against the trigger, and aimed at his head. Click. The bullet instantaneously crafted a small hole through his skull and cleanly pierced through it; he was only inches away from grabbing me, the impact forced his body backwards, blood now spilling onto the floor. Both the Overseer and Jessie freaked out at the loud combustion of gun powder; the Overseer turned to run, thumbling to pull his weapon out of its holster and Jessie instinctively pulled down on the lever. As the sound of metal grinding on metal could be heard, the sheer anger forced me to aim towards the Overseer. It was as though I was in some mood of ecstatic rage, my finger pulling uncontrollably on the trigger, raining shots down upon him; back, leg, shoulder, back, head. His body collapsed quickly to the floor, the colour red covering him and the floor around his now dead corpse. The cartridge was empty. I spun around in a state of delusion to see Jessie cowering in the corner of the room in fear, as if I was going to kill him too. He just stared at me, shaking; his blankness making me feel like a complete stranger. I tossed the pistol towards his feet, a sign of surrender, and walked towards the newly formed hole. I was ready for this; the blistering sun blinding me, the air choking me, the barren wasteland welcoming me.


End file.
